The criticism of life after the death of Malcolm “: the book traces the heritage of the black icon

If you were in the early 90s, you saw a lot of baseball caps sporting a simple “X” capital. They marked an ingenious stroke on the part of the filmmaker Spike Lee, who would soon reveal one of his best films, “Malcolm X” from 1992, with Denzel Washington as the chief of the black nationalist, prophetic and often misinterpreted. The film and the discussion and the debate he inspired marked a new thrust of Malcolm fever which understood but went far beyond the fashionable headgear.

But Malcolm X, who was murdered in 1965 shortly after having broken with the nation of Islam, was never really old -fashioned. It is the argument that motivates “the beyond Malcolm X”, the incisive survey of Mark Whitaker on the sustainable place of Malcolm in American culture, and the slow shub process to discover who really killed it (and who did not do it). “Afterlife” really tells of two stories, broadcasting along the parallel tracks: one is a work of cultural history which addresses Malcolm's call to people as disparate as Black Power Firebrand Stokely Carmichael and the judge of the Supreme Court Conservative Clarence Thomas, who has formerly swarmed. “The other is a legal thriller on the three men imprisoned for having pumped the body of Malcolm full of bullets that day in February 1965 in the Audubon ball in Washington Heights.

That the two strands manage to connect is a testimony to Whitaker's clarity and organizational skills as a writer and his experience as a journalist. The former editor -in -chief of Newsweek – he was the first black leader of a National News Weekly – Whitaker has a gift to rationalize the materials of materials, some fairly controversial, in a readable and readable story, or a series of stories that click together. He explains how his subject influenced sport, arts, political thought and activism. He follows the most important chroniclers of Malcolm, some of which are well known, others less. You probably know Alex Haley, author of the posthumous publication (and selectively factual) “Autobiography of Malcolm X.” You are probably less familiar with Peter Goldman (himself a former editor-in-chief of Newsweek), the white journalist who won the confidence of Malcolm, interviewed and wrote about him several times, and ended up writing the Welcome “The death and life of Malcolm X” in 1973.

You could say that Whitaker spends a little too much time on relatively peripheral characters like Goldman, who ended up playing a role in the cultural impact and the shutters of the case law of “life after death”. And Whitaker sometimes sinks into subtotters with tenacity which can ensure that the situation as a whole is retreating. But “life after death” never becomes boring, obtuse or clinical. All these years to produce a weekly copy helped to make Whitaker an instinctive craftsman of miniature characters who chooses good details and painted portraits with rapid economic features. Finally, you realize that all the smallest parts served the greatest and said something crucial on who was Malcolm X and continues to be.

Author Mark Whitaker.

(Jennifer S. Altman)

Whitaker is particularly clever to refocus characters, images, moments and familiar movements through a Malcolm X lens. The image of John Carlos and Tommie Smith on the stand of the medal at the 1968 Olympic Summer Games in Mexico City, Ganoués des Fists in the air in a salvation of black power, was seized in historical conscience. In “Afterlife”, we learn that a Carlos teenager followed Malcolm around Harlem as a puppy, frequently taking his conferences and his sermons. “I was just in love with man,” recalls Carlos. When the time came to organize before the 1968 Olympic Games – Carlos and Smith were one of the athletes considering a black boycott of the Games, in part to protest against what they perceived as the racism of the President of the International Olympic Committee, Avery Brundage – the two sprinters already felt the spirit of Malcolm.

The chapter of hip -hop is also out of competition, focusing on how Malcolm has become a strength in the growing street culture through his spoken word – the Keith Leblanc Cup in 1983 “No Sell Out” was among the first of what has become countless songs to sample his voice – and, later, through the afrocentric vision of artists, including the public enemy and KRS-ONE. Malcolm had not disappeared when hip-hop took off in the 80s, but he was not the familiar name that he was in the past. The chief of the public enemy Chuck D remembers the time when he and the collaborator Hank Boxley (later Hank Shocklee) installed leaflets in concert bearing the name and image of Malcolm. A young fan approached and asked who was Malcolm the tenth. “We looked at ourselves,” recalls Chuck, “and said,” Well, we have to do something about it! “”

Whitaker sets up a convincing argument that knowing the name of man is more important than ever. “Today”, he writes, “in the midst of a reaction against positive action, so-called diversity, equity and inclusion programs, and other measures designed to rectify past racial injustice, Malcolm calls for black self-referral have never seemed more urgent.”

“The post-life of Malcolm X” is a committing reminder that the tastes of Malcolm never really die. Sometimes they even find themselves on hats.

Vognar is an independent culture writer.